


in this moment

by starlightwalking



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 0 to 60 in like 5 minutes, Altersex, Altersex Maedhros, Begging, Blow Jobs, Bottom Maedhros, Camping trips, Cunnilingus, Deepthroating, Enthusiastic Consent, First Time, Hair Kink, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Maitimo really just wants Finno to manhandle him, Morning Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessiveness, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Sharing a Bed, Size Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Years of the Trees, and Finno is more than happy to oblige, somehow still an absurd amount of mutual pining despite the premise, this is Russingon I can't write them without the Longing, this is possibly the filthiest thing I've ever written oops, which I usually hate but with these two it Gets me, Ósanwe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:21:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28619469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/pseuds/starlightwalking
Summary: On a camping trip in the Pelóri...there was only one bedroll. Shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo
Comments: 17
Kudos: 63





	in this moment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tyelperinqwar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyelperinqwar/gifts).



> this is for Nory, who inspired this story by providing the premise <3  
> also shoutout to Nelyo and moiety for aiding and abetting
> 
> For this story, I'm using Nory's headcanons for elvish sex and gender!  
> there are 3 genders (nér, nís, and nás/nássë) and 3 sexes (hanwa/male, inya/female, enel/between). elves can be any combination of the two, although it’s most common for them to be aligned.  
> in LaCE there’s a bit where it’s mentioned that elves always have genders that match their bodies, which is interpreted here to mean 1) no one has gender dysphoria and 2) elves go through puberty that corresponds with their gender; their fëa has a great control over their hröa than in humans. gender identity is more important, socially, than physical sex, which is more personal.  
> what does this mean for Mae and Finno? well, Maitimo is an enel nér, so he has both a penis and a vagina, and Findekáno is a hanwa nér, and has only a penis. that's pretty much everything you need to know for the fic; I only really bring up the terminology once.
> 
> “nómilt” is [neo-Quenya](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23079499/chapters/55208962) for “precome” ; likewise “milt” is “come”
> 
> ETA: This fic was previously tagged as "Intersex Maedhros" but a very kind anonymous commenter reached out to offer the alternative "altersex" as one that fits the situation better. Thank you very much!
> 
> hope you enjoy :) I really didn't intend for this fic to get as filthy as it did but they're having a good time and that's what matters!

He woke, and the first thing he noticed was the leg, _Findekáno’s_ leg, squeezed between his thighs.

Being held, being close to someone—he had cuddled with his parents and siblings and cousins, even _this_ cousin, countless times before. But this...this felt _right_ , it felt _good_ , in a way that was different from that.

Then Maitimo realized that Findekáno’s hand was under his shirt, flat on his stomach, and Findekáno’s face was pressed into his neck, his mouth slightly open, his slow breaths stirring Maitimo’s hair...

Valar, his _hair_. They’d unbraided their hair last night—they’d each done their own, of course, they weren’t quite so desperate as to touch each other’s, not yet—but now Findekáno was _touching_ his _unbound hair_ with his _face_ —

Maitimo wondered, giddy and still muddled with sleep, if Findekáno’s hair was tangling with his own. Wondered if he could see, if he just turned his head and...

But that might disturb Findekáno, and he thought he might _die_ if Findekáno let go of him. Maitimo was tall, much taller than Finno, but he’d never felt so safe in someone else’s arms. Findekáno had wrapped his whole body around him, and Maitimo _needed_ that.

He needed—wanted—more. But this was all so new, and... He couldn’t scare Finno away. Not now, when this...thing...they’d stumbled into was finally taking shape, was finally becoming real.

It had been only a month since Findekáno had confessed in the silver light of Telperion that _I like you, Russandol, more than I should_ ; only a month since Maitimo had cupped his face and brushed his lip with his thumb and _kissed_ him, soft and gentle, in a way that made his heart sing even if he hadn’t worked up the courage to do it again...

They hadn’t spoken of it since, but sometimes Maitimo burned within, a fierce flame that he thought only Findekáno’s touch could calm, if it did not feed the fire first. Sometimes, Findekáno would throw a glance his way so dark and hungry that Maitimo went weak at the knees.

They hadn’t spoken of it, not even when planning this trip to the Pelóri, far from any other living thing save Yavanna’s creatures. But there was a tension between them, taut as a bowstring, ready to snap at any moment.

Maitimo had wondered if it would be last night, with their hair down and only one bedroll between them, but they’d simply curled up together like they had in the past (except that in the past, their hair had been bound) and drifted off to sleep.

But now Maitimo was awake, and Findekáno was so very close, so close he could _smell_ him, and his leg was thrust between Maitimo’s thighs at just the right angle to be absolutely _maddening_.

Findekáno shifted slightly in his sleep, and—and Maitimo felt something hard poke him in the rear.

For a moment he forgot how to breathe. Was that—did he—was he really—

Unable to help himself, Maitimo pressed back against him. He just—he had to know—

Oh, it _was_. Maitimo’s mouth fell open, and he was suddenly flooded with _want_ , all this pent-up longing, and it was all he could do not to whimper.

Findekáno’s breath was hot against his neck, and suddenly that mouth was moving, the lips closing, pressing a lazy kiss just behind Maitimo’s ear. He shivered, that fire prickling under his skin, and he _did_ whimper at that, a soft, breathy sound he was instantly ashamed of.

“Mmm...Russo?” Findekáno mumbled, readjusting his position. For a moment Maitimo feared he would pull away, but no, he only moved a little, letting his hand slip further up Maitimo’s front, almost close enough to brush teasingly at his nipples.

Maitimo lay very still, not wanting this moment to end. Unless—unless...

Findekáno was more at ease, it seemed, absently brushing a strand of red hair out of Maitimo’s eyes and shifting his leg slightly, increasing the pressure against Maitimo’s groin and nudging his arousal against his rear again. Maitimo bit his lip to prevent another embarrassing sound from slipping out, overly conscious that he was in a very similar physical state, and surely Finno could _tell_ —

Findekáno froze. “Oh,” he breathed, and Maitimo could not help but turn his head to catch a glance of those sleep-soft lips, those blue eyes blinking in the filtered morning light, that broad nose that got cold so easily in the chill mountain air.

“Russo...?” Findekáno asked, not rocking against him but not leaving either, and Maitimo wondered if this was a dream. Surely it could not be reality, surely he could not be so blessed as to have Findekáno here, with him, hard and wanting, wanting _him_...

But though the warmth and pleasure tingling throughout Maitimo’s body had an aspect of hazy tranquility, he remembered Findekáno’s confession, he remembered that soft kiss. And that warmth was more than warmth, it was heat, and suddenly Maitimo was made bold with desire, and before Findekáno could pull away he rolled his hips against Finno’s groin with purpose.

Findekáno gasped, and a moan slipped from Maitimo’s lips. “ _Russo_ ,” Findekáno whispered, drawing a thumb over Maitimo’s nipple, and this time when Maitimo moved Finno moved with him, grinding his thigh against Maitimo’s arousal and holding him even tighter.

Maitimo moaned again, louder, sparks of pleasure racing up his spine. He was already hard and he felt himself growing wet also, and with Findekáno’s cock pressed against his ass all he could think of was Finno moving just a few inches forward and...

“Finno,” he rumbled, and before he could stop himself he grabbed Findekáno’s wrist, yanking his hand from his chest and shoving it down his pants.

Immediately he felt Finno’s fingers curl around his shaft, and he shuddered. But—but that wasn’t quite what he wanted; Findekáno knew that while Maitimo was a nér he was also enel, not hanwa like Finno himself, and Maitimo suddenly and desperately wanted Findekáno _inside_ of him, even just a little. He tugged the hand down further, groaning softly as he felt Finno’s fingers brush against his slick lips.

Findekáno was breathing heavily, rutting against Maitimo’s ass. He’d moved his leg out from the grip of Maitimo’s thighs to better fondle his groin, and he blurted out, “Russo, you’re so _wet_.”

“For you,” Maitimo babbled, breathless, unable to hold himself back any longer. “It’s—I’m—hhhnnnghh, _Finno_ —” for Findekáno’s hand had dipped even lower, slipping between his folds— “you’re just—it’s you, you make me feel this way, I’m, I’m wet for _you_ —”

“Russo,” Findekáno choked out, and bit down on Maitimo’s shoulder in a way that had him crying out and bucking into Findekáno’s hand.

For a moment he feared he would topple over the edge too soon, so overcome was he with pleasure and the soaring joy of a longing at last fulfilled, but he breathed deeply, trying not to gasp, and regained his control. Findekáno worried at the junction of his neck and collarbone, sucking a bruise there, his fingers exploring Maitimo's most intimate parts. And then his other hand came to join the first, and he was stroking Maitimo’s cock and fingering his hole at the same time, and Maitimo couldn’t do anything but moan, his voice a low rumble.

But—it wasn’t fair for him to be receiving all the pleasure. Maitimo shuddered and tried to turn, tried to face Findekáno—he had to see him, had to look at those eyes blown wide with lust, had to kiss those plush lips. Findekáno made a small noise of disapproval and Maitimo stilled at once, his need to behold all of Findekáno's beauty and his need to be _good_ for Finno at war with one another.

“Russo, my Russo,” Finno whispered hoarsely. His left hand stroked Maitimo, slow and confident, as if he'd done it a thousand times before; Maitimo was suddenly overwhelmed with a vision of Findekáno lying back in his bed, fisting his own cock and moaning _Russandol, ai, Russo!_ But he was soon distracted by Finno's left hand, which, while inexperienced with this kind of anatomy, was quickly picking up on how Maitimo gasped and squirmed as he pumped in and out and stretched his hole wide with two fingers.

“Ffffindekáno,” Maitimo groaned. “Finno, this is, you’re, I can’t hold on, Finno _please_ , I’m, can I—?”

Findekáno laughed into his hair, his _hair._ “And if I said you couldn’t?”

“I,” Maitimo gasped, “I would—I wouldn’t, I would listen, I want—” He swallowed the words, ashamed of his desires. He wanted Finno to command him, to tell him what to do, to be rough with him and deny him even the things he wanted. None of that made sense, but it tumbled through his mind all at once, and he felt his thoughts dancing from himself to Findekáno. He was helpless to refuse Findekáno’s firm, insistent mental nudge to let him in, and his mind flew wide open, his desires flowing freely despite his shame.

But Findekáno did not recoil, nor did he laugh in scorn. Instead he groaned himself, grinding harder against Maitimo's ass, and _oh_ it was not fair that he was touching Maitimo like this and Maitimo hadn’t even had the chance to _see_ him.

“You do what _I_ want,” Findekáno growled.

“Yes,” Maitimo promised deliriously, barely holding himself back from the edge. “Yes, I will, I’m yours, please, Finno, for you, I’m all for you, _please_ —”

“Then it’s a good thing,” Findekáno panted, “for you,” he bit Maitimo again, _hard_ , and squeezed his cock at the same time as he curled his fingers inside his hole, “that I want you to come for me. You’ll show me that, won’t you, Russo?”

Maitimo sobbed and let himself fly apart. He shook all over, only vaguely aware that he was ruining his pants, his cock twitching and spilling seed onto Finno’s hand, his inner walls contracting around Finno’s fingers. The world turned white behind his eyes, and all he knew was Findekáno’s crooning voice praising him, telling him how beautiful he was, how much he was loved, how good he felt.

He fell limp into Findekáno’s embrace, his head flopping to the side, and Finno kissed him on the mouth for the first time that morning, the second time at all. It was gentle and sweet and unhurried, for all Maitimo could feel Finno still hard against him, and it was as close to bliss as he’d ever known.

After a moment of breathing together Maitimo stirred. “Findekáno,” he rasped. “Finno, I...”

“Shh,” Finno whispered, kissing him to silence. “We have time, love, all the time we need...”

“Thank you,” Maitimo croaked. “Findekáno, I love you, I...what can I do for you?” He squirmed, remembering suddenly that he had hands with which to touch Findekáno, and reached around to grab at Finno’s ass. “Can I—”

“Let me take care of you,” Findekáno said, but he rocked back into Maitimo’s grip and let out a little moan. His hands were still down Maitimo’s pants, sticky with his fluids, lingering and still lightly stroking his twitching, overstimulated genitals.

“Please,” Maitimo said, “I want to—I want to get you off, Finno, want to see you c-come undone like you did me—”

Findekáno cursed, and then suddenly his hands were gone. Maitimo whimpered, afraid he’d done something wrong, was Finno punishing him? But then the hands returned, at his arms this time, rough and possessive in the way he craved. He turned Maitimo around so they were facing one another and shoved him down onto the bedroll, and Maitimo went, helpless with want.

Finno towered above him, breathing heavily, seeming taller and mightier than Maitimo himself in that moment, and Maitimo had never felt more _safe_. It was absurd, he thought dizzily, that being so manhandled was a comfort, but for once he didn’t feel in control, didn’t feel responsible for everything and everyone. He surrendered to Findekáno, because he trusted him, and he wondered that this was only the first time, because it felt so right and natural, like they’d been doing this for centuries.

“Stars, Russandol, what you _do_ to me,” Finno rasped, and how could he be so soft and adoring and yet so powerful and possessive all at once? “I’ve—I’ve wanted this, I’ve wanted _you_ , for years—”

“I've always been yours,” Maitimo said, and _oh_ , they were finally talking about it, weren’t they? Well, he could stand the awkwardness and vulnerability, so long as Findekáno didn't stop grinding down on him. “Always, Finno, since—since before it was proper, probably—”

“And I've been yours since the day I first saw you,” Findekáno said huskily, leaning down for a biting kiss. “You're _mine_ , Russo, I’m never letting you go.”

“Never, never,” Maitimo promised, “ _always._ ”

Findekáno shoved Maitimo's shirt up and over his head, accidentally on purpose tangling it in Maitimo's hair so he could run his fingers through his long red locks. Maitimo shuddered; somehow this was more intimate than anything they had yet done, even more than Findekáno’s clever fingers inside him and around him.

Findekáno stared at him for a moment, mesmerized by his bare chest, and Maitimo flushed redder than he was already. He could feel Findekáno’s desire, physically and emotionally, and he was glad beyond measure that Finno found him fair. If he could be pleasing for Findekáno, little else mattered.

“Maitimo,” Findekáno said wonderingly, tracing sticky hands down his chest and side. Maitimo arched into the touch, unable to form any words other than _yes_ and _please_ and _Finno._ “You’re so beautiful, vanimelda, as glorious as an Ainu, more...”

“Please,” Maitimo begged, not quite sure what he was asking for. But Finno seemed to know, for he was slipping out of his nightshirt now, and Maitimo hungered for that smooth brown flesh, the muscle in his arms and stomach, the curve of his hips...

Impulsively, he leaned up and kissed Findekáno, first on the lips, then tracing a trail down his neck and chest with his mouth, half kissing and half licking, as if trying to devour him whole. He paused to lave a nipple, then the other, and only when they were both hard little points did he continue, nuzzling into Findekáno’s belly, right down to the soft curls just above the ties of his pants.

He paused, worried he’d gone too far, but Findekáno nodded, eyes heady. “With your teeth,” he ordered, and Maitimo needed little further instruction. He bit down and tugged at the laces until they came loose, Finno’s pants falling down from his waist, baring his cock, thick and hard and beautiful.

Maitimo's mouth watered. He wanted nothing more than to worship Findekáno, make him feel as good as he felt himself, and not knowing how to ask for that he sent a wave of feeling to Finno, hoping he would understand.

And Valar, he _did_. Findekáno sank his hand into Maitimo’s hair, tugging on it so that his scalp prickled and his cock jerked and more slick accumulated in his loins, and guided his head down until Maitimo was a breath away from his cock.

Here Finno paused. “This is—this is alright?” he asked, sounding worried, probing between them to make sure.

“Finno,” Maitimo slurred, darting out his tongue to lap at the head of Finno’s cock, tasting his nómilt. “ _Yes_. Please. I want it, treat me rough, please, I need—”

He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to. Findekáno grabbed him and pushed him down, giving him exactly what he wanted, filling his mouth with cock. Maitimo moaned around the intrusion, sucking fervently and hollowing his cheeks, trying to remember what he’d seen the stable boys do and what he’d read in those books that no high prince should be caught with.

He pulled back for air, glancing up to see Findekáno’s head thrown back in ecstasy, then descended again with Findekáno’s strength behind him, opening his throat and taking his cock as deep as it could go. He repressed the instinct to choke, willing his hröa to obey, and was rewarded by a noise from Findekáno that nearly drove himself to the edge again, his cock painfully hard, still trapped in his pants and coated in his own mess.

“Fuck,” Findekáno groaned. “Fuck, Russo, you’re so good at this—have you—”

Maitimo shook his head. _No,_ he replied, mind to mind, _I’m yours, just yours._

Findekáno snarled. His other hand joined the first, fisting in Maitimo's hair, and suddenly Maitimo was completely at his mercy as he fucked his mouth, pulling his head up and down. Maitimo spluttered and drooled, keeping himself as lax and pliant as he could, letting Finno use him. It felt good, it felt right, like this was what he was supposed to do, what he was made for.

 _Min_ e _,_ Findekáno hissed, the word invading every corner of Maitimo’s being until he thrummed with it, fëa and hröa.

 _Yours, yours,_ he echoed back, and Finno gave one more brutal thrust before burying himself as deep as he could go and spilling inside him. Maitimo’s throat burned as Finno’s seed poured into him, and he moaned long and low until Finno pulled back, still pulsing, filling his mouth proper. At last his cock stopped twitching and he fell back, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he caught his breath.

Maitimo held Finno’s seed in his mouth as long as he could, savoring the bitter taste, waiting until Finno cracked open his eyes before swallowing and licking the last drops from his lips. Findekáno’s cock twitched again, and Maitimo felt another wave of desire wash over him, and thrilled with the thought that _he_ was its cause.

“Come up here,” Findekáno said, half an order and half a plea. Maitimo wanted nothing more than to be near to him, so he curled up next to Findekáno, so close their noses touched. Giddy with joy, Maitimo kissed him, sharing his taste with him, and Findekáno moaned into his mouth. Maitimo felt the caress of his tongue, and then Finno’s arms were wrapped around him, pulling him even closer, and he was hardening again and rutting against Maitimo’s own erection.

“ _Findekáno_ ,” Maitimo whispered, saying his name like a prayer. “I—I want—”

“Tell me, beloved, tell me,” Findekáno begged, and the feeling between them shifted now, changing from Maitimo desperately submissive and Findekáno firmly commanding to a more mutual need, a tenderness that filled Maitimo’s heart with golden warmth.

“Stay with me?” he asked. “Please. I love you, I want you, I...”

“Of course,” Finno murmured, nipping at his lip. “I worried...after that first kiss...you didn’t do anything, for so long. I thought you might not...”

“I didn’t...” Maitimo swallowed, his throat still sore from having Findekáno’s cock inside it, and just the memory sent another flood of arousal through him. “I didn’t want to mess it up. And then you suggested this trip, and I hoped...”

“And we did,” Findekáno added mischievously.

“And we did,” Maitimo agreed, nuzzling into Findekáno’s neck, breathing in the scent of him. He was rapidly becoming addicted to the feeling of Findekáno in his arms and touching him in all the right ways; they’d already done so much, but he wanted _more_.

Findekáno chuckled, and Maitimo remembered that he’d opened his mind to him. He blushed a little, but he could feel Finno’s thoughts too, and he knew that they _both_ wanted that.

“I can barely believe we just...” Maitimo huffed softly. “I don’t know where any of that came from...but I liked it,” he hurried to assure, “I just, I didn’t expect it to be so...”

“I’ll take care of you,” Findekáno promised, so tender and sincere that Maitimo thought he might melt. “Always, Russo. You’re _mine_ now, and that means I’ll be there for you, whenever you need me.”

Maitimo shivered. “Yours,” he said hoarsely. “And...you’re mine?”

“Mmm,” Findekáno agreed, kissing him. _Yes. Of course. I love you._

 _I want,_ Maitimo said, but he could barely even think it.

 _Tell me,_ Finno ordered.

Maitimo pulled back slightly, so he could look into Findekáno’s eyes. “I want you inside me,” he whispered, only a little self-conscious, for he could feel Finno’s endless love and rising desire and knew he had nothing to fear. “I’m...I’m so wet for you, so hard too, I want...I want your cock in me.”

Findekáno groaned, rolling them over again so he straddled Maitimo’s lap. “Yes,” he said breathlessly. “Yes, yes...and later, you can have me.” He pressed his palm against the bulge in Maitimo’s pants, and they both moaned. “Fuck, you’re big, aren’t you? You’re perfect, Russandol, perfect to fill me up and fuck me right.”

“Findekáno,” Maitimo whined, and as lovely as that sounded he needed Finno in him _right now_. “Please, yes, I will, but first—”

Finno yanked his pants down, _finally_ , and took a sharp breath as Maitimo’s sticky cock sprang free. “Stars, you’re a mess, aren’t you,” he purred. “So filthy for me, love...I suppose I’ll have to clean you up first.”

“Finno—!” Maitimo yelped, but Findekáno had already descended to lick messily at his cock, gathering seed in his tongue, kissing the head, nuzzling his hairs, and then he was lapping at his entrance, pushing his tongue inside, and Maitimo’s hips bucked of their own accord, fucking himself on Finno’s face.

Findekáno sat back up, eyes glittering, his mouth glistening with Maitimo’s juices. Maitimo moaned and pulled him into a kiss, shivering at his own taste and growing ever harder.

“Please,” he hissed into Findekáno’s mouth, “please, please, I want it, I need it, I need your cock in me, _please_ —”

“You’ve had my cock in you,” Finno hummed, sounding incredibly pleased with himself. “I can still taste it on your lips.”

“ _You know what I mean—_ ”

“Say it,” Finno hissed. “Say it and maybe I’ll give it to you.”

“ _Stars_ , Finno—” It took all of Maitimo’s strength not to grab him and roll them over so he was on top and could sink down onto Finno and ride him. But if Finno wanted him this way, he would do it, of course he would. “I want you to fuck me, in my cunt, please, Finno, I need your cock filling me up, I’m so wet for you, you’ll slip right in—”

Findekáno _growled_ , shoving Maitimo’s legs apart and pressing the head of his cock to Maitimo’s dripping hole. “I’m gonna take you,” he said, a promise and a threat, “I’ll take you and make you _mine_.”

“I already am,” Maitimo gasped, and Findekáno’s eyes burned bright as he shoved inside.

Heat exploded in Maitimo’s core, and the noise he let out made Findekáno jerk back, halfway out of him, and slam back in. It wasn’t gentle; it wasn’t tender; it was exactly what Maitimo needed. He sobbed, feeling Finno’s length stretching him, filling him, making him whole. It was exquisite, burning, overwhelming, and he needed _more_.

Findekáno bent down and kissed him, settling fully within him. “Russo,” he mumbled, “Russo you feel so _good_. Like you’re _made_ for me.”

“I am, I was,” Maitimo whispered. “Well-made, for you, all for you. _Finno._ ”

For a moment they were still, reveling in the pleasure of each other’s bodies, the rightness, the wholeness of this joining. Maitimo could scarcely believe he’d gone his whole life without this, and knew he couldn’t go on if he lost it.

Then Findekáno drew back and rocked into him again, and again, and again, setting a steady pace, and Maitimo drank in every pant and moan like it was clear springwater on a hot day. He moved with his beloved, crying out when Finno struck something inside him that sent a spike of pleasure through his whole body, clenching around him and delighting in every thrust.

“Russandol,” Findekáno slurred. “Russo, touch my hair...”

At this Maitimo squeaked. His _hair_? It—it wasn’t proper to touch someone’s hair unless they were immediate family, or one’s spouse, and for all Findekáno was fucking him with great passion they weren’t—they weren’t _married_. ( _Not yet_ , a soft voice in his mind whispered, and he couldn’t tell if it was him or Finno or Eru Himself, but it was too soon to exchange vows, and the act alone would not complete the bond.)

“Russo, I am literally _inside_ of you,” Findekáno said, amused, pausing for just a moment. “And I have already _pulled_ your hair, do you not remember?”

“Can I braid it after?” he blurted out. “When we’re—when we’re done?”

Findekáno leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips, soft and chaste despite the fact that they were still joined. “Of course, melindo,” he whispered. “But please...for now...run your hands through it, love. I want to feel all of you...”

“Only if you go back to fucking me,” Maitimo teased, and when Findekáno resumed with renewed vigor, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He reached out and tangled his fingers in Findekáno’s thick black locks, all loose, the gold ribbons scattered about the floor of their tent. He felt giddy imagining his hands in that hair all the time, weaving ribbons into Finno’s braids, making him beautiful beyond measure, more glorious than anyone else in Arda.

“Except for you,” Findekáno breathed, a reminder that their thoughts were still joined, and Maitimo laughed in utter joy. Yes, he was beautiful, he knew this, and through the flashes of himself he saw through Findekáno’s eyes he knew that Finno’s love for him made him all the lovelier. It didn’t even feel like vanity, because he knew just how gorgeous Findekáno was to him, how magnificent they must be together.

The image of their bodies united, perhaps of them fucking in front of a mirror, watching themselves—maybe this time it would be Maitimo inside of Findekáno, an idea almost as stirring as the feeling of Finno’s cock filling him up—sent a blazing bolt of pleasure through him. He shuddered, sharing it with Finno, loosening one hand from those black curls to stroke his own cock as Finno’s pounded away at that spot inside him.

“No,” Finno growled, and he ceased instantly, only for Findekáno to wrap his fingers around his shaft, interlaced with Maitimo’s own. “ _With_ me, Russo.”

“With you,” he echoed, and he felt his climax building, growing with every tug and stroke and thrust. “With you,” he repeated, more urgent this time, wrapping his legs around Findekáno’s back, pulling him closer and even deeper. “Finno, my Findekáno, with me, please—”

“N-not—yet—” Findekáno stuttered, but his rhythm became uneven, and Maitimo knew, he _knew_ Finno was close.

Something wild and fey seized Maitimo’s fëa, and he laughed. As much power as Findekáno had over him, he knew suddenly in that moment he had over Findekáno also.

“What if I _make_ you?” he taunted. “What if I tell you just how good you feel inside me—how much I want to return the favor—”

Findekáno trembled, squeezing harder, so hard Maitimo didn’t think he could come if he tried. He could feel just how desperate Finno was for that, how arousing it was for him to imagine sinking down on Maitimo’s large cock, how much he wanted to be claimed as he was claiming Maitimo.

“You don’t have a cunt,” he continued, his voice breathy, “I’ll have to take your ass—imagine the stretch, arimeldanya, I know I’m b-big—”

“Maitimo, you’re going to kill me,” Findekáno gasped, thrusting so wildly now that he nearly slipped out before coming home inside him.

“Not before I make you come,” he growled, pulling tight with the one hand still tangled in Finno’s hair. “ _With me,_ Finno, _now_ —spill inside me, fill me with your seed, I want it, I want it all—”

“ _Russandol!_ ” Findekáno shouted, and everything blazed with an unquenchable fire, their pleasure cresting together as they both shuddered and spent, Findekáno pulsing inside Maitimo in hot, endless spurts and Maitimo squeezing him tight, keeping him there, drawing out more even as his own cock shot milt all over their joined hands and sweaty chests.

After an impossibly long moment, suspended in time, they came back down to themselves, both breathing heavily, their minds still linked as their bodies were. Findekáno shuddered, pulling out with a squelch and collapsing on top of Maitimo. He wrapped his arms around him, feeling Finno’s breath on his skin, a blessing with each exhale.

“I love you,” he croaked, that one truth overwhelming all else. “Findekáno, I love you more than—than anything in all of Arda, more than the stars and the light of the Trees and even—”

“Shhh,” Findekáno mumbled, intercepting his thought, his hand finding its way to cover Maitimo’s mouth. “No blasphemy...not now...don’t want Manwë striking you down and ruining everything...”

Maitimo giggled softly, too tired for a proper laugh. Valar, but it was still morning; they’d _just_ woken up not an hour ago, and already he felt in dire need of a nap. He kissed the palm over his lips, felt Findekáno huff out a soft chuckle of his own, and resigned himself to getting nothing at all done today save loving his Finno, a worthy task indeed.

“This is...perfect,” Findekáno whispered. “Love. My love. My Russo. Have me forever? Please?”

“Forever,” Maitimo said firmly, lifting his chin to give him a kiss. “I fear we’ll say vows next time, if we aren’t careful, but...I suppose I’m already older than my father when he wed.”

Findekáno sighed happily. “Next time,” he said dreamily. “Vows. Yes. Well, maybe we ought to throw a party first, let people know, and Eru knows I won’t wait that long to have you again, but...yes. Eventually. Soon, even.”

“Soon,” Maitimo promised, letting his eyes fall shut. “And when...” He yawned. “When we wake up, and get cleaned up, I’ll braid your hair into a crown fit for a prince. So they’ll know. They’ll know you’re mine, and I’m yours.”

“Hmmm,” Finno agreed. “Yours. Mine. Forever.”

Maitimo shifted so they lay together on their sides, still front to front, heedless of the mess between them and dripping from his groin. There would be time for worry and chores and more conversation, but for now, in this moment, he had Finno in his arms, and all was right and good.

He relaxed, and drifted into Irmo’s realm, hoping to dream of Findekáno and their perfect future together...and he knew Findekáno hoped the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and commenting!  
> You can find me on tumblr [@arofili](http://arofili.tumblr.com/).


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